


'cause i still count on one hand the number of good men i know

by starkidpatronus



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Consensual Infidelity, Dan Humphrey is Not Gossip Girl, Divorce, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Getting Back Together, Infidelity, Love, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, POV Female Character, POV Serena, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Pining, Post-Divorce, probably don't read this if you like dan/serena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkidpatronus/pseuds/starkidpatronus
Summary: "She spends part of the day walking through Central Park, avoiding the playground and zoo she and Ricky and Emily frequent. Instead, she turns her attention to the trees overhead, not turning yet, just slightly tinged with red and orange, mere suggestions of what is to come. She buys a hot dog and eats half of it. She spends the other part of her day in her hotel room, drinking champagne, eating chocolate, and watching trashy television about people she used to have so much in common with. She misses it, sometimes, the days when nothing was permanent."Serena and Nate accidentally have an affair. She should have seen it all coming.





	'cause i still count on one hand the number of good men i know

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Islands" by Sara Bareilles.
> 
> Not beta'd.

The affair had been an accident. At least, that’s what Serena tells herself. It wasn’t like she’d planned it, after all. Sure, maybe she had thought about it once or twice before, but it wasn’t like she’d gone to the benefit in Manhattan that night with it in mind. It wasn’t a _goal_. Dan just happened to be away on a book tour, and he just happened to be there without a date for once, and it just happened to—happen.

One minute, Serena is laughing at Nate’s corny jokes at the bar. The next, he has her up against a wall in a hotel room. And she never bothers to look back.

Thus, half of her life is taken up by hotel rooms now. She likes hotel rooms, always has; loves how everything is so neat and clean and organized perfectly. Loves the sense of adventure they give to all their inhabitants, even though Serena hasn’t been on, nor wanted to go on, any _real_ adventures for years. Still, she’s been bored. The excitement of it all is intoxicating in the beginning.

Then, it settles into a routine. But Serena likes routines, too; they’re comforting and safe, so she doesn’t mind. But she worries he’ll get bored, and so buys some new lingerie. It’s a cheap, tacky ploy, but it works, so Serena doesn’t care.

It takes three months before she realizes Nate may actually have feelings for her. It takes another two weeks before she realizes she may actually have feelings for Nate.

She almost ends it after that. Almost.

But it’s been so long since she’s felt anything like this, anything at all really, trapped in Brooklyn with her two kids and Dan and the equivalent of a white picket fence. She loves them all, but it’s the sort of stale love you feel when you know you’re supposed to love someone, but wouldn’t be able to give any reason why you love them other than, “He’s my husband.” Of course, she really does love Ricky and Emily, but obviously they can’t satisfy her in this way. So, who can blame her for this, really?

Sometimes, she wonders if he hates her.

“Do you hate me?”

He looks over at her, brow furrowed, arm behind his head as they lie in bed together. “No,” he answers. “Why would you think that?”

“I just,” she says sheepishly, looking down at the space between them. “Sometimes, it feels like you do. That’s all.”

“Serena, anytime it seems like I hate you,” Nate declares, “I promise, it’s just me hating myself for letting you go.”

“Nate…”

“And now that I have you back,” he continues, “I never want to let you go again. Never.”

“You know you’ll have to,” she points out. “I’m married.”

“Why did you choose him?” he sighs, ten years of regret coming out in it.

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” Nate challenges. “Or were you just afraid?”

“Afraid of what?”

“ _This_ ,” Nate answers. “Us. How _real_ we are.”

“We’re not twenty anymore, Nate,” she states squarely. “It’s long past time to stop believing in soulmates.”

“I never said anything about soulmates,” he says. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be telling that to.”

Partly, he’s right. But only partly.

The truth is, there are many reasons why she chose Dan over Nate. Some good, some bad, but all of them hers.

Yes, one of them was that she’d been afraid. But another was that, while everything had felt fairytale-perfect and meant to be while she’d been with Nate, it had also all been based on lies. And anyways, fairytales didn’t exist; they all had to live in the real world eventually. And, honestly, after everything was set and done, Dan was the easier choice. Maybe that was one of the bad reasons. She didn’t care.

Days pass in this way; Nate and Serena have their affair, Dan pretends not to know, and Nate keeps asking questions Serena doesn’t have the strength to give answers to. For a while, it’s enough. Until one day, it’s not.

Nate wants her to leave Dan. She can’t leave Dan. She doesn’t know how to. After all, he’s always been the one who does the leaving. Serena’s not sure she can handle that sort of role reversal.

“Why _not?”_ Nate demands in a rare fit of frustration. “Leaving him, being with me—it’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I—”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!” Serena explodes. A silence falls over the room as the word—and all its implications—hit them both.

“No?” he repeats, dumbstruck.

“No,” she confirms, firmly.

“Why not?” He’s confused now, drained of anger. The anger’s been replaced with that hurt puppy-dog look that’s always made her want to hurt whoever hurt him. She hates herself.

“Nate, what I want is not to leave my husband,” Serena pushes herself to say. “Or my kids. I’ve never wanted that. And I never will.”

“Then…what _do_ you want?” he ventures.

“I want…” she trails off and sighs. “I want everything to be as easy as it was fourteen years ago. I want everything to be so much simpler. I want to go back in time and choose you, or never even have left with Trip. I want you with none of the complications.”

“Of course it’s complicated, Serena,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It’s life. It’s _us_. What did you expect?”

She supposes there is some truth to that; they had been a mess from the start, her and Nate. Going behind Blair’s back, then going behind Dan’s back, and always getting lost in the cracks. Stuck between the lines of the story the Upper East Side seemed to tell all on its own—with the help of its most notorious narrator, of course.

She sits down on the bed next to him. “Look, I don’t want to pressure you,” he says, not meeting her gaze, choosing instead to look at the hotel room floor. “But I can’t keep doing this. I need you to choose. Either him or me. And I need to know by the end of the month.”

She doesn’t fight him on it. Even when giving her an ultimatum, he’s so kind about it, she can’t say no.

So, Serena has two weeks to decide if she’s going to leave her husband, her kids, and the life she’s dreamed about forever behind.

Sometimes, she indulges herself, daydreaming about Nate sweeping her off her feet, and taking her away from Dan and all the rest of it to live a life of happiness and sex and love. Those selfish daydreams never last long; she never lets them.

She wishes she could be like her old self again, leaving messes behind whenever things get too difficult and not considering who she was hurting. But she’s older now, and that Serena is long-gone, left as soon as kids came into the picture.

It doesn’t help that Dan is now being the husband she’d always wanted him to be: Kind, considerate, sweet for no reason. There’s no ulterior motive when he brings home flowers or looks into her eyes and tells her he loves her. But then, maybe there is one. Maybe he knows about the decision she’s trying to make, and is doing his best to plead his own cause. And he’s doing a fine job of it.

It’s almost enough. Almost.

But, there’s still Blair.

Serena almost forgets about Blair, most of the time. She’s always there in the back of her mind, for several reasons, but she’s usually on the farthest-back backburner. But one night, when they go into the city where they met all those years ago for a charity gala, she comes into full focus.

Blair divorced Chuck years ago, and it had been quite the scandal. Until something new happened, and no one cared anymore. Blair had counted on that, of course, the ever-churning tides of the Upper East Side gossip ocean.

Blair the Divorcee is only a little different from Blair Waldorf-Bass. She’s still a little tired around the eyes, a weariness set into her shoulders. And she’s also still a charmer, an easy smile always gracing her lips. But now she seems more—alive. With a new purpose. And lighter, as if losing the weight of a ring and a second last name has lightened her load innumerably. Which makes her even more beautiful than before. And Serena knows that’s dangerous.

She watches Dan carefully as they greet her; she hates having to monitor him when they’re in her presence, but she can’t help it. She knows he would never have an affair, but can’t shake the feeling that one day he might. And Blair is the only person it would ever be with—and it’s not like Blair’s above that. Even while Blair was still married, Serena had watched them, knowing Blair would view the rings on both their fingers as nothing more than trifles, obstacles easily overcome by her and Serena’s husband’s passion for each other.

Dan doesn’t seem to have any ideas or delusions the night of the gala. Why would he? He’s content with their life; Serena knows that.

But that doesn’t mean Blair doesn’t have her own delusions. And Serena doesn’t trust Dan around a delusional Blair. Serena doesn’t trust anyone around a delusional Blair; she still has that intoxicating way of looking at you like you’re the most important person in her life, and she needs you more than anything. It makes you feel special. Wanted. It makes you believe in the impossible, which Blair is constantly asking people to do. Anyone could fall victim to that, and Dan is no exception, as history has proven.

To an untrained eye, it would appear that Blair has no interest in Dan. But Serena’s eye is not untrained. She _knows_ Blair; well, at least, she knew her, once. And that’s enough to know what she looks like when she wants something. Someone.

It’s the little things. How she maneuvers their seating at the table so that she and Dan end up at each other’s side. How she snaps her fingers to summon a server whenever his glass of water runs low. How she brings up one of those pretentious writers the two of them used to talk about back when Blair had still been denying everything.

Serena smiles wryly to herself amidst it all; how little things change.

Here she is, sitting at a table, feeling completely ignored by the man who claims to love her, as he takes far more interest in the brunette to his left with that devious sparkle in her eye. It’s always been like this, really; there was always something between them, even when there wasn’t. And he will deny it all when she confronts him about it later tonight. And if she and Blair still spoke, she would deny it to everyone, including herself. And Serena will go on not being able to trust the two people who were, at one time, the most important ones in her life—arguably, one of whom still is. She’s so tired of it all.

It hits Serena that night as they ride the subway back to their modest Brooklyn flat as she looks up at her husband, who is standing so that a pregnant lady next to her can sit: She doesn’t trust him.

Dan is a good man. He is thoughtful, generous, sweet, creative, intelligent, and strong. He is everything she ever wanted her husband to be. But she cannot trust him. She never will.

She’d tried so hard for the kids, for Lily, for Rufus, for the expectations no one really had anymore, for everyone else. But it would never be enough.

She leaves the next day. Why delay the inevitable?

Of course, she speaks with Dan about it before she leaves. He’s at home, writing for the whole day; a full pot of coffee has already been made for him. She’s walked the kids to school; they are alone with each other. Normally, she avoids being alone with him. Maybe that should have cued her in to what was happening long ago.

When she asks if they can talk, it’s almost like he knows what’s coming.

The distance between them on the couch seems unbridgeable. Serena doesn’t know how to be with him like this anymore. She hasn’t for a very long time.

She has nothing to say that will make this conversation any easier, and so she just comes out with it: “I want a divorce.”

If he’s surprised, it doesn’t show on his face. Rather, resignation overtakes his features, a deep sort of tiredness she recognizes from Rufus.

“Okay,” he says, and doesn’t ask why. “What do we do about the kids?”

“You’re not gonna’ get even a little upset about this?”

“No, Serena,” he says, sighing. “I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know nothing I say will change your mind,” he proclaims, “and I don’t see the point in wasting emotional energy on something I cannot change.”

It’s so coarse and crude and nonchalantly cruel. It’s so honest. So Dan. It’s the final knife Serena needs to be cut with, in order to know she’s making the right decision.

Serena gets the kids, mostly. It’s only fair; _she’s_ the one who birthed them, after all. And anyways, she isn’t completely heartless; he gets them on weekends, and even for the whole first week of every month. That’s a far better deal than most fathers get. Well, she’s pretty sure about that; the only person she has to measure it all against is Blair, and she made sure she got both the kids in the end. Even little Henry, who had always been daddy’s boy. Serena guesses even daddy’s boy can get tired of daddy’s games, the same way everyone did eventually.

But all that is decided later, of course, and takes months. Months during which she lives at her mother’s place, trying not to lose her mind every time she meets her gaze and sees the disappointment evident in her pinched face. She’s gotten used to that, though.

The day she leaves, though, she gets herself a hotel room, all for herself. She doesn’t tell Nate right away. She still has another week to make her decision, technically, even if she has already made it.

Thus, she spends part of the day walking through Central Park, avoiding the playground and zoo she and Ricky and Emily frequent. Instead, she turns her attention to the trees overhead, not turning yet, just slightly tinged with red and orange, mere suggestions of what is to come. She buys a hot dog and eats half of it. She spends the other part of her day in her hotel room, drinking champagne, eating chocolate, and watching trashy television about people she used to have so much in common with. She misses it, sometimes, the days when nothing was permanent. Especially now.

She moves into her mother’s place the next day. She tells Nate the day after that, and agrees to meet him at his apartment.

Nate has a million and one questions. When did she leave him? Why? How? Did she leave a note and not tell anyone face-to-face? No, it’s not the 1920s, after all. So, she told him. How’d he take it? Did he cry? Did he beg her not to leave? No, that’s not really Dan’s style, is it? How’s it working out with the kids? So, she was choosing Nate, then, right? They could be together now?

“Nate, I just left my husband,” she says tiredly. “I need time.”

“That’s fine; I completely understand,” he says, wringing his hands as they sit together on the sofa, with space for a whole person between them. Then, after a beat, “How much?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaims, fed-up with the never-ending questions. “It’s a little hard to quantify something like that.”

“Right, yeah,” he immediately backs off. “Of course.”

He’s so great. He’s always been so great.

She scooches slightly closer to him on the couch, takes his hand lightly, gently places a hand on his face, turns his head towards her, and lays a soft kiss on his lips. It’s barely longer than a breath. She pulls away smiling and teary-eyed, hopeful for the first time in years. She thinks she sees the same in Nate’s face, and for a moment, she feels like a schoolgirl with a crush and no cares in the world again.

A month passes and Serena doesn’t even notice it. She’s too busy with divorce paperwork and work to notice the passage of time. The only way she marks the end of her days is with the various takeout food she orders for dinner for her and her mother every Friday.

Of course, she has to have The Talk with Ricky and Emily at some point. She’s been putting it off, but on a day she has them at her mother’s place, Ricky wants to know why she and Daddy don’t live together anymore. And since Ricky wants to know, naturally, Emily wants to know, too, and Serena can’t put it off any longer.

She sits them down on the couch, and sits across from them on the coffee table.

“Daddy and I don’t live together anymore,” she tells them, “because we are getting a divorce. Do you know what a divorce is?”

“Sort of,” Ricky says.

“No,” Emily answers.

Serena sighs, letting her head fall into her hands. She has no idea how to do this, how to have this conversation in which she completely shatters her children’s perceptions of their world.

“It means Daddy and I won’t be living together anymore.”

“Why not?” Ricky asks. “Don’t you love each other?”

And, oh, Serena has no idea how to answer that. She decides to go with the truth—or, at least, what she thinks it the truth. “Yes, but it’s complicated. Your father and I will always love each other. We just—don’t love each other that way anymore.”

“How come?” Emily asks.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t know why,” Serena says honestly. “These things just—happen. No one can explain it.”

“Well…what’s gonna’ happen to us?”

“I don’t know yet, dear,” she answers. “But we both love you very much, so you’ll still see both of us.”

“But not together?”

“We’ll be together for certain things,” she clarifies. “Just…not most things.”

“I don’t get it,” Emily says. “Didn’t you two get married?”

“A divorce is what…ends a marriage, sweetheart.”

“You’re ending it because you don’t love each other like that anymore?”

“That’s right.”

“I wish you did.”

“I do too, honey. I do too.”

After a month and a half, her and Dan’s divorce is nearly finalized. They just need to sign the final papers.

Turns out, it’s every bit as dramatic as they make it look in movies. They get in a room with tall windows and a large table and black chairs no one sits in. They’re all there; Serena, Dan, each of their lawyers, a witness for each of them—Lily and Rufus, respectively. Serena ignores the irony there.

The lawyers go over the contract once more, so that everyone in the room is aware of just how they’re splitting up their life together. And then, they’re both presented with pens. Serena spares Dan a look before signing first. Dan keeps his eyes trained on the paper. That doesn’t surprise her; he always did better with a paper and pen than he did with people. With her.

She lets another month pass before she calls Nate. And even then, she sets strict parameters. She tells him up-front that she is still getting over the failure of her marriage, and is not ready for romance yet. She wants to be friends. Nate is as magnanimous as always; goes so far as to say, “I just want to be with you. I mean, not _with_ you, with you. Just—with you. Around you. In your presence. I—I just like spending time with you, that’s all.”

Serena allows herself a smile at that.

They go on like that for three months. Then, while they’re watching TV together one day, she quietly reaches over and takes his hand. It’s enough.

She has her restrictions, of course. They can still only meet up at each other’s apartments. And since Lily is often at her apartment, that means they mostly meet at Nate’s. For a month, it’s the way it was back when she was still married—sneaking around, making sure not to be seen, made-up stories about where Serena is going and who’s coming over to Nate’s place. Of course, it’s harder now, because Serena is the only one taking care of Ricky and Emily, most of the time. She can’t have Dan pick the kids up from school, so their visits—and the sex—have to be quicker now. Time passes like this for a month.

Serena doesn’t know why she’s still hiding this from the rest of the world. After all, she is under no obligations to her sham of a marriage now; she can do as she pleases. She _knows_ this. But she knows the rest of the world will not have such a practical view on it, and maybe she doesn’t want to have to deal with being thrust back into the spotlight like that again. The divorce had been enough.

And maybe part of her still isn’t able to fully let go.

But that doesn’t mean others aren’t.

She hears about Dan and Blair seven months after the official divorce. She’d been expecting it, so she’s surprised by how much it hurts to hear it. Or, rather, read it, because where else would the news break than on the site that has brought her all of the bad news in her life? Told her everything that had ever hurt her, before a loved one could. Looking at the pictures of her ex-husband and ex-best-friend sneaking around together, Serena is struck with the worst kind of déjà vu.

What she isn’t expecting is a phone-call from Dan the day after it’s posted.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says, and Serena almost breaks down from that alone. It’s been so long since anyone has apologized to her.

“It’s all right,” she says, only half-lying. “You’re allowed to date whoever you want to date.”

“But it isn’t what it looks like!”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“No, really, we’re _not_ together,” Dan insists. “We’re just…friends again. That’s all.”

The worst part is, Dan actually believes that, so Serena plays ball. “Then what are you sorry for?”

“Not telling you,” he answers. “I should have known something like this would happen; I was an idiot for not seeing it coming and preparing you.”

“Okay,” Serena says. She waits a moment, then asks, “So…can you swear you’re going to _remain_ ‘just friends?’”

“I—Serena—” He says it in the tone he’s always used right before he’s about to disappoint her.

“’Got it.” She hangs up the phone without another word. What more is there to say, really?

Sure enough, two months later, Dan and Blair walk the red carpet to one of her events together. It’s some opening for the magazine she runs—a new office, a new region, a new _something_. Serena doesn’t care about the event. All she cares about is the smiles on their faces, Dan’s arm around Blair’s waist, and Serena’s lack of an invitation.

They used to go to all of each other’s events. She misses so much of her old life. Of all the things she could have brought back from it, this whole thing was last on her list.

One week later, Serena gets herself an invitation to a plus one event—some lifetime achievement award is being given out. She doesn’t care. All she cares about are the photos of her on Nate’s arm, beaming smiles on both their faces.

It’s shallow. It’s petty. Especially since she left this life behind and never goes to anything other than charity galas and benefits anymore. She doesn’t care.

Nate does, though. He plays along, but once they get back to his place, demands, “Are you just using me as a way to get back at him?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Your little display tonight,” he states, “sort of left me with no other conclusion.”

“What _display_ are you referring to?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Serena!” Nate orders. “Your dress, your hair, your makeup. How you wouldn’t leave my side for a moment. The poses. Making a big show of us leaving together. _All of it_.”

“I didn’t realize spending the evening by my side was such a hardship for you,” Serena says coolly.

“That is not what I meant,” Nate replies harshly. “And you know it.”

“Then what did you mean?” she challenges.

“I meant—I don’t want to just be your weapon of revenge,” he states. “I want to be with you because of you, and I want you to be with me because of me.”

“Nate, of course I want to be with you because of you!” she exclaims. “I’ve always wanted to be with you! And you have _never_ been the easy choice. But I’ve still always, _always_ wanted to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Yes,” Nate says, still tense. “If that’s true. And I have no way of knowing if it is.”

“Is me telling you it’s true not enough?” Serena challenges. Nate looks away. “Is there anything I’ll ever be able to do for you that will be enough?”

“You’re already enough for me, Serena,” Nate declares. “You’re so much more than enough for me. I just don’t know if I’m enough for you.”

“Well, if my word isn’t enough for you to be sure of that,” Serena retorts, “maybe I’m not enough for you, after all.”

She spends the night back at her mother’s apartment. For once, Lily doesn’t look disappointed or politely upset. For once, she is just a mother; she gets out ice cream and _When Harry Met Sally_ and lets her daughter rest her head in her lap. She listens to Serena rant about how much she hates the man she loves, and passes no judgements. All she does is agree that men are terrible, especially the ones they love.

The next day, she calls Dan. He agrees to meet her for lunch at what used to be their favorite place. Sure enough, when she walks in, he’s already sitting at their once-usual table. When she walks in, he smiles a sort of resigned smile.

“Hi,” she greets, sitting down across from him.

“Hello,” he replies, just a little stiffly. “How are you?”

“Good,” she says. “I see you’ve been doing well, too.”

“I’m happy, yes,” Dan says, the slightest undercurrent of tension present in his tone. “I saw your pictures today online. You seem happy, too.”

“I am,” she declares. The waitress arrives, and they both order something different from what they normally get. Neither comment on it. They make chit-chat, talk about the kids and the weather and work. Serena waits for their food to arrive before saying, “I always knew you were waiting for her.”

Dan sighs before saying squarely, “Serena, it’s not fair for you to expect me not to move on. You did too, after all. Rather quickly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dan scoffs. “Right.” Then, after a pause, “I did love you, you know. While we were married, I loved you. In my own way.”

“You always loved her,” Serena counters.

“You don’t think it’s possible to love two people at the same time?”

“Was that it?”

“Wasn’t that always it?” Dan tosses back. “You, me, and Blair. Nate, you, and Blair. Nate, you, and Vanessa. Vanessa, Nate, and me. Blair, Chuck, and—well. You get the point.”

“You,” Serena finishes the sentence Dan didn’t dare finish. “Blair, Chuck, and you.”

“No,” Dan says firmly. “No, it was always just Blair and Chuck. I was never part of that. Even while it was Blair and me, it was still Blair and Chuck.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“If I am to believe what the evidence suggests,” Dan says, exhaustion and resentment creeping into his voice, “then, yes.”

“She loved you,” Serena proclaims. Dan scoffs again, not looking up from his plate. “I know you won’t believe me. But she did. You should ask her about it.”

“Did she ever tell you that?”

“She didn’t have to,” Serena answers. “She _was_ my best friend, you know.”

“Well, she was _my_ —something,” Dan says on a sigh. Serena can see the weariness of those times still etched into his features. “And I never thought she did.”

“Then why’d you tell her you did?” Serena challenges. “Weren’t you expecting an answer?”

“No,” Dan says. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“Bullshit,” Serena responds. “No one says that without expecting a similar response.”

“Well, I did,” Dan replies mildly. “I just wanted her to know. I didn’t need her to feel it back. I just wanted her to know that I felt it, and so I would be there for her, no matter what. I guess…she wasn’t ready for that.”

“But she is now.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and a faint smile plays on his lips. “She is.”

So, there it is. They’ve told each other they love each other. If it were anyone else, Serena would think it was too soon. But it’s them, so of course it’s not, and Serena hates that. She and Nate have been back with each other for five months now, and they still haven’t said it. They’re always so quick with everything but that.

As if reading her mind, he says, “So, how are things going with you and Nate?”

“Fine,” she answers absent-mindedly, then quickly amends her statement to, “Great, I mean. Things are going great.”

“Are you _in love?_ ” he asks with a meaningful waggle of his eyebrows. Then, he adds, “Again.”

“Not yet,” Serena replies easily.

“That’s normal,” Dan reassures her.

“Is it?”

“Of course!” he insists. “Our divorce wasn’t _that_ long ago, Serena; it’s only natural that you two would choose to take it slow.”

“You and Blair haven’t been taking it slow.”

“That’s—”

“Different?” she cuts him off. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “It just is.” Serena rolls her eyes. “Hey, look, it’s—Serena, it’s not a race, all right? There’s no one right way to fall in love. You and Nate are taking your time, which is fine. Blair and I…went a little faster, and that’s fine too. Whatever works. It’s all fine.”

Serena appreciates the kind words, but doesn’t really believe them. Everyone knows that after a divorce, there’s always a race to see who can get their life back together first. And so far, Dan’s been winning.

“It was always her for you, anyways,” Serena says nonchalantly.

“It was you, at one point,” Dan replies. Serena scoffs. “I know you don’t believe me. But it was. For a time.”

“But once it was her, it was her for good.”

Dan purses his lips, then resigns, “I suppose that’s a fair statement.” He allows a moment before retorting, “But then, it was always him for you, wasn’t it? Even when it was me, even before I came into the picture, even when he was supposed to be Blair’s— it was still him.”

And Serena supposes that’s fair, too.

*** 

She knows you shouldn’t rush “I love you.” And you certainly can’t force it. But surely you can…speed it along, right?

One thing she knows: She is _not_ going to be the one to say it first.

If she says it first, it will look desperate. Like a pathetic divorcee doing everything in her power to hold onto what she has in her clutches. She will make herself the vulnerable one here.

But of course, that means Nate’s going to have to say it first, which he has never done before. At least, not while they were still together. Even when begging Serena to stay with him, he still refused to say it. It hurt her back then, that he wasn’t able to say the one thing that would have persuaded her to stay. She understands now why he couldn’t, but it still hurts to remember.

She doesn’t know how one goes about getting a guy to say “I love you.” She’s never had to try with any other guy; only Nate has made it a challenge. Maybe that’s what makes it worth it. But maybe you shouldn’t have to try to get someone to say they love you; she’s seen this before, after all. It didn’t look nice then, and it doesn’t feel nice now.

But maybe she’s expecting too much. On the other hand, he always thinks she’s expecting too much when she wants a guy—or anyone— to show her any measure of affection.

Does she even love him yet, though? What if she’s pushing him to say something she’s not even sure she can say back yet?

They’re baking cookies together one day, because of course they are. Because Nate does that sort of thing, and Serena’s always wanted to be the type of person who does those sorts of things, so she happily plays along.

He’s frosting them and talking about some sports team or other, and she looks over at him, and she loves him. It’s so clear. Of course she loves him. The simplicity of it strikes her so that she almost tells him so. But she remembers her promise to herself, and bites her tongue.

Now, she only has to get him to feel it, and say it first.

Easier said than done.

She doesn’t want to drop hints; it’s too tacky and desperate. Buying the declaration from him with little gifts is just too…well, it’s too much like something Chuck might do. And anyways, it probably wouldn’t work; it would likely wound Nate’s manly pride too much. So, she just has to be irresistibly loveable. Prettier, funnier, softer.

She spends more time on her makeup in the morning, and freshens it up right before she sees him. She looks up comedy tips, and uses none of them; it’s not like she’s about to do stand-up, for Christ’s sake. And she doesn’t know how to be softer. Frankly, she doesn’t know how to be anyone other than who she is. Maybe that’s always been her problem.

Nate apparently senses how upset she is with herself, though. “Hey, are you all right?” he asks one day while they’re unwinding together in front of the TV after a long day.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she lies easily; lying is one of the skills she never lost from her past life. She snuggles deeper into his chest.

“You know,” he says, “you can tell me what’s wrong. I’m sort of here to support you in tough times.”

“It’s nothing you can fix.”

“Try me.”

Serena sighs. “I want someone to tell me something, and they just won’t do it. And I’m worried that they won’t because they don’t actually feel the way I want them to feel about something.”

“Hmm,” Nate hums, shifting slightly, still holding Serena. “I see. And why do you think this person hasn’t told you what you want them to tell you?”

“I don’t know,” she answers. “I guess they really don’t feel what I want them to feel.”

“I don’t believe that,” Nate rejects her answer out-of-hand. “There’s no way anyone could ever feel anything negative towards you. And…I imagine you don’t want this person to feel negatively about you?”

“No,” Serena says, chuckling, and Nate laughs too.

“Well then,” he continues, “I’m sure they do feel what you want them to feel. Why haven’t you just asked them why they haven’t told you?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I think it can be.”

“Nate—”

“I love you,” he declares, and she looks up at him, eyes childishly wide. “Serena van der Woodsen, I am hopelessly in love with you. I never stopped being in love with you. For the past fourteen years—longer than that—I have loved you. And I will never stop.”

People don’t say things like that in real life. Except people like Nate.

“I love you too,” she says, and means it. God, does she ever mean it.

He laughs into Serena’s hair and Serena laughs too because they are just _so_ ridiculous. Fourteen years. Fourteen years and they’ve finally made it.

They go for a walk and hold hands in Central Park the next day. Gossip Girl posts pictures about it. Serena doesn’t know that; she doesn’t check.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Be sure to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! Subscribe if you want to see more of my work int eh future. If you have any questions or requests, feel free to contact me at thewriternotthemuse.tumblr.com. <3


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